


Failing Better

by immie_8



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Christine Palmer (mentioned) - Freeform, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, The Ancient One (mentioned) - Freeform, character introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9075463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immie_8/pseuds/immie_8
Summary: Stephen Strange reflects during one of his many deaths at Dormammu's hands.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. This is my first fic on AO3 and my first venture into the MCU. The quote was featured on Criminal Minds.

_Try again, fail again.  Fail better._

_- **Samuel Beckett**_

 

Pain.  No, that wasn’t the right word for it.  Not that it was wrong either; just the greatest understatement in the history of the multiverses.  Ever. This was far more than pain; more than agony or torture or any word in all human, or any, language, even hell.  Though, Hell might be a close approximation.  Every nerve, every atom, every strand of energy was simultaneously being burned and drowned, slashed and stitched, crushed and stretched beyond all limits – complete and utter torment on every plane: physical, mental, astral. 

 _You’ve really gone and done it this time.  An absolutely brilliant idea_.

Strange would have laughed if he was able.  Even here, even now, he couldn’t get his ego to shut-up. But at least this time he knew just how wrong he was.  Well, sort of.  Sarcasm aside, it actually was right.  This **_was_** a brilliant idea, probably the best he’d ever had – regardless of how it ended.  Assuming it did.  Another surge of dark energy tore through him and for a moment he thought that the round was coming to an end, but it seemed as if his foe was not quite ready for things to begin anew, or as old.  Strange almost smiled at the thought – he’d already won the war, regardless of how many battles he lost.         

_Finally coming to understand, are you?  Took you long enough._

This time the voice was not his and the memory of it sent a pang through his heart.  It sounded so close that, for a moment, Strange was tempted to struggle, to try to reach for it.  But deep down he knew that it was but an echo and that truth caused a lump to form in his throat.  He missed her.  Her guidance, her serenity, her strength, the way she could always see through him.     

_You want to know what I see in your future?...Possibilities._

Was this one of the possibilities that she had seen?  Would she even have believed it if she did?  He (mentally) shook his head as he reflected on the man he once was – a shallow, shadow of a man.  What had she ever seen in him?  In that angry, arrogant creature that had shown up on her doorstep?  So narrow minded and sure, so blinded by his own pride…and fear.   Yes, he could admit that now.  He’d spent much of his life afraid.  Afraid of failing, afraid of fading.  Selfish and self-absorbed.  And, yet, she’d taken him.  She’d looked into him and taken a chance on whatever miniscule spark of potential that she’d seen in him.  And he’d failed her.  The one being who’d seen past the mask and saw the potential in him to be better.

_Well not the only one._

The thought sent another shiver through him, but this one was warm.  The memory of soft lips against his cheek; the smell of her hair, mingling with the sharp scent of hospital sanitizer.  Another pang coursed through him as he recalled their parting; his bitter words ringing in his ears.  She’d been the first person to truly see him and he’d thrown it all back in her face.  He’d been such a fool.  He’d never deserved her. 

For a moment he allowed himself to wonder what it might have been like had he swallowed his pride for just one moment.  What might have been if for once he’d taken her advice and apologized?  Would she have been there when Pangborn’s file arrived and what would have happened if she was?  Perhaps she would have talked him out of going.  But maybe, just maybe, he would have convinced her to come with him.  Maybe they might have taken this journey together. 

_She would have caught on a lot quicker than you._

Stephen snorted at the thought, but there was no heat behind it.  He knew that it was true.  Strange inhaled sharply as he felt something inside of him snap and he knew that end was drawing near.  Gathering his strength, he focused on the memory of the two women who’d shaped him.  Who’d seen the potential and believed.  He hadn’t been worthy of either of them.  He could admit that now.  But he could try to be.  And he would; if it took him the rest of his life (which was likely) he would work to be worthy of them.  And if he failed, he was alright with that, because he’d be better for it. 

He let out a sigh as he felt the final strand of life snap and he faded from existence.  Then he felt as his spell swirled around him once more.   The power of the stone reversing time and putting him back as he was.  He inhaled as the magic ran its course and he found himself on the small planetoid once again.  He closed his eyes and allowed himself to focus: on those that had passed and those who were still below.  He opened his eyes as he exhaled, strength and purpose coursing through him.  A smirk spread over his face as he leaped.

“Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and comments are appreciated!


End file.
